


Resolution

by LaceFedora, PunsBulletsAndPointyThings, the_dragongirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Audio Format: Streaming, Community: pod_together, Dooku's A+ Parenting, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, F/M, Jedi teens are just as awkward as regular teens, Multi, OT3, Pining, Podfic, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Polyamory, Teenage kissing, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Drinking, teenage hormones messing things up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceFedora/pseuds/LaceFedora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dragongirl/pseuds/the_dragongirl
Summary: Qui-Gon and Micah are both in love with Tahl. An uncomfortable situation for all involved, until they come up with a rather creative solution.





	1. The Kiss (Micah)

**Length:**

12 minutes, 56 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 22 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%201%20NT.mp3)

 

Micah never could precisely put his finger on when things between them actually started. Sometimes, when Micah was the only one awake in their shared bed, with Qui-Gon snuffling into his neck and Tahl’s hair trying determinedly to escape its sleeping braid and drift into Micah’s mouth, Micah tried to figure out when exactly it happened. With Tahl, things were clear enough. After all, that night was not exactly the kind of thing one would forget. With Qui-Gon, though, things were more...complicated. There were so many little milestones to mark the transition. It hadn’t started out like this, as this well-worn, comfortable intimacy between old friends who knew each other’s bodies (and hearts) better than they knew themselves. It certainly hadn’t started out as love. So what point counted as the turning point? When did being best friends become..this?

 

Micah never got very far in his musings, though. Qui-Gon would always interrupt him by tightening his grip, wrapping himself further around them in his sleep. It would make Micah smile, even if he did have to shove Qui off to prevent any of them from suffocating under the weight of an overly cuddly Jedi Master. In those moments, the gray hair and stiff bones and laugh lines around his eyes seemed to melt away, and Qui-Gon looked exactly like the teenager he had been many years and several Padawans and grand-Padawans ago.

 

 _Yes,_ Micah would think. _Maybe that’s it_ . Because the first time he saw Qui-Gon look like that was clear enough in Micah’s memory. Perhaps it wasn’t _the_ beginning. But it was certainly _a_ beginning. And everything else...that definitely came after.

* * *

 

 

The first time, Micah and Qui-Gon were sixteen, and both desperately in love with their mutual best friend. Tahl was, after all, perfect. Beautiful, brilliant, and just starting to grow into that devastatingly dry wit that would be her hallmark in the years to come. And they had known her since the creche, and been friends for just as long; it was only natural that she would become the focus of Micah and Qui-Gon’s adolescent fantasies.

 

The problem, of course, was that Micah and Qui-Gon had a friendship just as deep (and just as old).

 

“You know I would never...never do that to you,” Qui-Gon slurred. It was their first time back at the Temple together after Micah’s first stint in the field as a Padawan. Master Dooku had, as usual, disappeared the moment he and Qui-Gon set foot in the Temple. He had also, as it turned out, failed to secure his liquor cabinet against curious, unsupervised, young Jedi.

 

Micah raised his glass of...whatever it was, in salute.  “‘Course not,” he agreed amiably. “Same for me. Wouldn’t be fair.”

 

“I mean, she makes her own choices,” Qui-Gon said decidedly, staring down at his own hands like they were some fascinating new species he had just discovered. “But what if we told her, and she _did_ want one of us? What would we do then? I know we’re supposed to let go, and all, but if you two were together and I was on the outside…and even if she chose me, that might be _worse._ ” Qui-Gon sighed, and slumped into Micah. “I couldn’t be happy if you weren’t, Mic.”

 

“Nah,” Micah said, wrapping an arm around Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon may have shot up into a lanky young tree of a man in the year since they were last on world together, but he was still surprisingly comfortable to cuddle with. “Me neither.”

 

“So we’re agreed, then,” Qui-Gon declared, pulling all his long limbs onto the couch so he could fold himself up entirely against Micah’s side.

 

“Mmm-hmm,” Micah hummed, and took another sip of his drink.

 

After a long moment of alcohol-fogged silence, Qui-Gon sighed again. “Still, though, it’s kriffing unfair how amazing she is. How’re we supposed to just let go of the fact that she’s actually perfect?”

 

Micah nodded, realized Qui-Gon couldn’t actually see that fact from where he was still tucked under Micah’s arm, then replied, “Kriff, yes. Not her fault, of course, but it really makes that whole ‘serenity’ thing difficult, when all you can think about when you see her is how nice she would be to kiss.”

 

“Yeah,” Qui-Gon mumbled. His face was now mostly buried in Micah’s shoulder.

 

“I mean, my Master is always saying that, if we can’t release our feelings, we should ‘find an appropriate outlet,’” Micah continued. “But how’re we supposed to find an appropriate outlet for wanting to _kiss_ Tahl, for Force’s sake? I mean, sure, we could just go find some random person and kiss them, but that’s not really the same, is it?”

 

Qui-Gon stilled then, halting his previous slow burrowing into Micah’s side. Then, abruptly, he shot upright. One of his bony elbows hit Micah hard in the ribs, but Qui-Gon hardly seemed to notice in his excitement.

 

“Mic, you’re a genius!” Qui-Gon exclaimed.

 

“I...I’m what?” Micah wheezed, rubbing a hand over his slightly bruised rib-cage.

 

“Look. _You_ want to kiss Tahl, and _I_ want to kiss Tahl, and that’s not going to happen for either of us,” Qui-Gon babbled, his eyes sparkling. “And neither of us wants to go kiss a stranger, right?”

 

“Umm...yes?” Micah agreed tentatively. The haze of the alcohol made it difficult to follow Qui-Gon’s thought process, but Micah knew that look. Qui-Gon was about to propose something entirely unorthodox, and quite possibly a little disturbing, but nonetheless effective. It was, Micah lamented, a very familiar look on Qui-Gon.

 

“So we can just kiss each other!” Qui-Gon declared, like it was the most logical conclusion in the world.

 

“Qui, that’s…” Micah started. Then he stopped, because actually, that _didn’t_ sound like a terrible idea. He felt like he perhaps _should_ object, on the grounds that neither of them really had any particular interest in kissing each other specifically, and Micah had this vague idea that one shouldn’t just go around kissing one’s friends for the purpose of distraction. On the other hand, Qui-Gon _was_ his best friend, just as much a Tahl. Qui-Gon wasn’t exactly unattractive, so it’s not like kissing him would be a hardship. And, most importantly of all, there was no risk of misunderstanding between them. This was just a method of directing their energies into a more appropriate outlet. No unseemly levels of attachment involved. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but this seemed like a pretty neat solution to Micah.

 

“Yeah,” Micah said at last. “Alright, that’s not a bad pl-”

 

And then Micah found himself with an armful mismatched, gangly limbs, as Qui-Gon threw himself enthusiastically into Micah’s lap.  The remains of the drink in Micah’s hand promptly spilled over them both, as Micah instinctively reached up to steady Qui-Gon and prevent him from tipping over backwards onto the floor.

 

“No time like the present, yes?” Qui-Gon asked, swaying slightly, but maintaining his balance well enough through his grip on Micah’s tunics.

 

“Force Qui, at least let me put my glass down first.”

 

Qui-Gon plucked the now empty (and rather sticky) glass from Micah’s grip, and set it down on a side table with exaggerated care. Then he grinned at Micah widely, and leaned in to press their mouths together.

 

It was not, objectively, a very good kiss. It was sloppy, and more than a little clumsy, and Qui-Gon’s great beak of a nose kept bumping up awkwardly against Micah’s cheek, nearly poking him in the eye at one point when Qui-Gon got overly enthusiastic. But is was also warm, and soft, and surprisingly easy. Qui-Gon, for all that he was a mismatched bag of outsized limbs and bony elbows these days, seems to fit nicely in Micah’s lap, and those long arms of his felt just the right length when they were wrapped around Micah and holding him close. Qui-Gon had been correct; this _was_ a good distraction from thoughts of Tahl.

 

Micah reached up, and wound his fingers into Qui-Gon’s short-cropped hair, redirecting Qui-Gon’s angle a little bit. And then, all of a sudden, something seemed to click into place, and kiss was suddenly very nice indeed. Micah finally figured out how to get the drool under control, and Qui-Gon figured out how where to put his nose, and everything just seemed to _work_.

 

They stayed like that for quite a while, trading long kisses, interspersed with quick, playful pecks. Micah eventually branched out to laying kisses over Qui-Gon’s cheeks, his forehead, and his neck. He particularly enjoyed feeling the rumble of Qui-Gon’s laugh as Micah kissed his throat.

 

Eventually, they slowed to point where they were mostly just pressing their faces together, feeling loose and happy and light, intoxicated with drink and company both. Micah didn’t even really mind when Qui-Gon eventually fell asleep on top of him, their limbs hopelessly tangled. He just rolled them both over so he wasn’t being squashed, covered them both with his discarded robe, and, with a clumsy application of the Force, flicked off the lights.

* * *

 

The next morning, Dooku returned to find the two of them still wound together on his couch, fully clothed, but reeking of the (very expensive) brandy they had raided from the cupboard. The lecture he gave them about “proper Jedi deportment” (and the resulting magnification of their headaches) may have put them off of experimenting with alcohol for a good long while, but it certainly did not put them off of experimenting with each other. After all, that first night had indeed proved an excellent distraction. It seemed like an avenue worth exploring.


	2. The Arrangement (Qui-Gon)

**Length:**

13 minutes, 30 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

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They didn’t really get a chance to talk about what had happened. Not right away, at least. Micah had been shooed rather unceremoniously from the quarters Qui-Gon shared with his Master following the severe (and honestly, far too loud) lecture the two Padawans had been subjected to. An hour later, Qui-Gon found himself standing at Dooku’s side on a transport, bound for the Outer Rim, his traveling bag slung over one shoulder and sleep still in his eyes. His head throbbed, and the previous night still felt a little fuzzy, but Qui-Gon dared not complain―not with the look in Dooku’s eyes that told the Padawan he was walking on a very fine thread with a fraying end.

 

 They were gone from the Temple for two weeks; a short trip, compared to most of the missions Dooku accepted. When they returned, it was only for Qui-Gon to discover that, in their absence, Micah and his Master had also been summoned across the galaxy. And so, Qui-Gon found himself with three days alone with Tahl. Dooku was still…displeased with him, and Qui-Gon had managed to give wide berth on the trip home.

 

Once, being alone with Tahl would hardly have been something to dread, but now…

 

 Now, Qui-Gon felt ill at ease in his own skin. Every time she touched him, and it happened a lot, he felt himself blush, his skin got too hot, and he tripped over his words, making her frown at him in confusion. When she laughed, it was worse; it made him feel like he was still drunk, his head got fuzzy and his heart lurched.

 

 It was _awful._

 

 Qui-Gon was nearly beside himself by the time Micah and his Master finally returned to the Temple. When finally, a week after their return, he received a message from Micah, saying that his Master was out for the rest of the day, Qui-Gon was ready to crawl out of his skin. He did his best not to run the entire way to Micah’s quarters, really he did. With his increasingly long limbs he wasn’t entirely successful. Thankfully no one in the halls called him out on it. Running in hall wasn't exactly decorum befitting a Padawan.

 

 Micah answered the door almost immediately, grinning wildly and looking far calmer than Qui-Gon felt. Well he would, wouldn’t he? _He_ hadn’t been alone with Tahl for days. _He_ hadn’t been the focus of her smiles and touches and _Force,_ Qui-Gon had been so _useless_ around her. Just thinking about it made Qui-Gon cringe.

 

 “You just gonna stand there?” Micah asked, when Qui-Gon did not move to enter. Qui-Gon blinked, shaking off the memories of past mortification.

 

“What? Oh. Right.” He followed Micah into the main room of his Master’s quarters, then flopped down onto the couch with a huff. “I shouldn’t be allowed to be alone with her,” he moaned, pulling a cushion over his face. “I shouldn’t be allowed to speak. Or move. Ever.”

 

“That bad?” Micah asked, and Qui-Gon felt the sofa cushions shift under him as Micah sat down beside his feet.

 

Qui-Gon dropped the cushion and stared mournfully at Micah. “She probably thinks I’ve gone senile early.”

 

That made Micah laugh. “Aww, poor Qui. Can’t stand being around her perfection?”

 

Qui-Gon glared half-heartedly at his friend. “Like you’re any better.”

  

Micah laughed and scooted closer, wrapping his arms loosely around Qui-Gon’s shoulders. Even as he glared, Qui-Gon leaned into the embrace. They stayed like that for a few moment, until Qui-Gon finally broke the silence.

 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. He'd found he couldn't stop thinking about it, when Tahl wasn't all consuming his thoughts. When Micah looked up to meet his eyes, one eyebrow raised, Qui-Gon felt his cheeks heat. He looked away.

 

“Like...before,” Qui-Gon mumbled, suddenly wishing he had just stayed a quiet. A hand on his cheek made him look up.

   

He was relieved to find Micah was grinning. “And here I thought you’d never ask.”

 

It was different, kissing Micah while sober. They were more coordinated, for one thing. Micah’s hand stayed on Qui-Gon’s cheek, lightly cupping his face, and they managed not to bang their noses. At first it was quick; a light press of lips, and then Micah was pulling back, searching Qui-Gon’s face for a moment before he leaned in again. It was, Qui-Gon thought absently, as he slid a hand up to cup the back of Micah’s neck and keep him close, a little like muscle memory. The press of Micah’s lips, the taste of him, was familiar, and Qui-Gon found himself relaxing even further, thrilling in the closeness, the warmth and the contact.

 

Slowly, the kiss began to heat up, both boys losing themselves in the sensations. The drag of Micah’s teeth over Qui-Gon’s bottom lip made Qui-Gon gasp, his pulse jumping. When he scratched his short nails across the nape of Micah’s neck, desperate for something to ground himself with, he could _feel_ the shudder that ran through Micah’s body, and taste the groan Micah gave against his mouth. Qui-Gon gasped, his free hand sliding around Micah’s waist as he let the other Padawan push him further down onto the couch. Micah settled into Qui-Gon’s lap with a satisfied noise, tangling his fingers into Qui-Gon’s hair and using the hold to pull them even closer together. After a few minutes, Qui-Gon forced himself to open his eyes.

 

“Mmm…mmm, Micah, Micah, hang on.” He pushed Micah gently back with a hand to his chest. “We should talk.”

 

Micah blinked, then frowned, wiping the back of his hand across kiss-swollen lips. “Do we have to?” he pouted. “But this is so much more fun!”

 

Qui-Gon couldn’t help his grin. “You’re not wrong.” He reached up, cupping Micah’s face for a moment. “But still. We need to talk about this. Set some ground rules.”

 

Micah sighed, but his expression sobered. Smoothing down his tunics, he slid from Qui-Gon’s lap, settling on the couch beside him. For a moment, Qui-Gon berated himself for saying anything. Micah looked incredible, mussed and flushed as he was. But Qui-Gon forced himself to put all that aside―he was a member of the Jedi Order and would not allow himself to be ruled by his hormones. (Again.) (No matter how pleasant a fate that might be.)

 

Thus Talking.

 

Qui-Gon turned so that he was better facing his friend, and ran a hand through his hair, pushing the loose strands back behind his ears. He did not miss the way Micah’s gaze tracked the movement, and it sent a funny tingle running up Qui-Gon’s spine, a new rush of heat settling into the pit of his stomach.

 

“So.” He dropped his hands into his lap and stared at them for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

 

“So,” Micah repeated, his voice drawing Qui-Gon’s eyes back up to his face.

 

“Ground rules,” Qui-Gon said. “No serious attachments.”

 

 Micah nodded in agreement. “Yeah. We’re friends, and this is just to help us handle being hopelessly gone for Tahl.”

 

Qui-Gon nodded too. “Exactly. Just friendly…er…making out.”

 

“And maybe more eventually?” Micah asked. “Sex and stuff.”

 

Qui-Gon laughed at the restrained eagerness in his friend’s eyes, even as he felt his cheeks heat, just a little. It was different, talking about this without the aid of excessive amounts of alcohol to remove the self-consciousness. “I would like that.”

 

 “Good. Me too.” Micah grinned. Qui-Gon blew out a breath, matching Micah’s smile as his nerves fled him. He reached out and caught Micah’s hands, pulling him closer, and smiled wider.

 

“Maybe this will help me stop making a complete and utter fool of myself in front of Tahl all the time. Force knows she really doesn’t need _more_ fodder for blackmail,” Qui-Gon said, cringing.

 

Micah laughed and tugged one hand from Qui-Gon’s to raise it in protest. “Now hang on there, Jinn, I might be a literal sex god, but I’m no miracle worker. You’ll make a fool out of yourself, with or without my help.”

            

Qui-Gon spluttered with mock outrage, diving at Micah with a growl that drew a shriek and a burst of laughter from his friend as Qui-Gon tackled him, catching his lips in a searing kiss. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, sprawled together on Micah’s Master’s couch, legs tangled together, kissing and touching, seeking all the contact they could get. Eventually, Micah pulled his head back with a breathless noise that made Qui-Gon groan in protest and try to pull him back, only to be thwarted when Micah used his grip on Qui-Gon’s hair to pull his head back, drawing a gasp and a moan from Qui-Gon’s lips. The moan shook and jumped a pitch when Micah sat up and leaned in, and Qui-Gon felt the press of his teeth against the fragile skin below his jaw.

 

“We never did finish that talk,” Micah said conversationally, like he had not just been grinding his hips up against Qui-Gon’s as they kissed. Like he didn’t still have his fingers tangled in Qui-Gon’s hair, pulling Qui-Gon’s head back at an angle that really should have been painful but was instead only incredibly hot, and like he was not fully aware of exactly what that position was doing to Qui-Gon.

 

“Mic!” Qui-Gon whined.

 

“Come on, Qui-Gon. You’re the one who said we had to talk. So. Is this going to be a thing for us?”

 

Qui-Gon scowled down at Micah as best he could. “Yes. But if you don’t get back here, I might change my mind.”

 

“Oh, well then,” Micah purred, pressing a kiss to Qui-Gon’s jaw, his fingers slowly slackening in Qui-Gon’s hair. “We can’t have that.”

 

As soon as he was free, Qui-Gon lunged forward, pressing Micah back down to kiss him again, cutting Micah’s laughter off as it began. He, Qui-Gon’s thought, as he opened his mouth to Micah’s tongue, could work with this new arrangement. So long as Tahl didn’t find out. Or Dooku.

 

But perhaps that was a problem for another day.


	3. The Change (Tahl)

**Length:**

7 minutes, 32 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 10 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%203%20NT.mp3)

Things around Qui-Gon and Micah had been awkward for a long time. Sometimes it felt like Tahl was suffocating in the awkwardness. She had been really starting to miss her best friends when they constantly blushed, shied away, or just outright avoided her. Human puberty was a Force-damned mess. And she was amazed they’d both put it off for as long as they had. It wouldn’t have been so bad if one of them had actually tried to _talk_ with her about it. But all past attempts at her trying to start a conversation to get passed it had been met with a flight response from both Qui-Gon and Micah.

 

Tahl had been away with her Master for several weeks on a long mission. She was just dreading coming home to more awkwardness. She’d missed her best friends terribly and she just wanted to relax and catch up with them. Tahl didn’t know how much longer they’d have the chance to do so. She'd missed one of their name days away on the mission and her own had come and gone.

 

So, when she called them in and the three of them managed to have a nice, comfortable, lunch together, Tahl was just terribly relieved. It had been so long since they’d just had the chance to talk. The chance to just be normal again. They were all getting closer to their Knighthoods; she wasn’t sure how much longer they’d all get to see each other regularly in person. She didn’t want to waste of the time they had left together dodging romantic advances. She loved them both, there was no way she could ever choose between them. In those early days of their awkwardness, Tahl worried everyday that they were going to ask her to choose.

 

It was only a few days before she noticed though… they _were_ acting differently. Not everything was as normal as it appeared.

 

Qui-Gon wasn’t good with touch. He liked it, but he had a habit of avoiding it and even shrugging away from it. Personally, Tahl blamed Dooku. The man wouldn’t know what physical affection looked like if it bit him in the ass. Micah also wasn’t very clingy. He was usually just a pat on the back kind of person. But now… She watched as Micah and Qui-Gon casually bumped into each other. Comfortable touches on the arm, the hand. She was pretty sure Micah even squeezed his thigh playfully under the table at one point. Not once did Qui-Gon look uncomfortable with it or shy away.

 

Something was definitely different between them. She narrowed her eyes, considering what it could be. It wasn’t as though they were never all friendly with each other… but this, coupled with the both of them deciding that they could actually speak to her as human being instead of stumbling all over themselves due to raging hormones, this meant there was something else going on.

 

When Qui-Gon had to excuse himself to prep for a mission with Dooku, Tahl saw the perfect opportunity. Qui-Gon was a masterful liar, but Micah had never possessed such a gift. He folded like a poor Sabacc hand at the first sign of strain.Tahl started to smile at him slowly.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Micah asked when he turned back and found her staring. “I don’t like it when you look like that. It always means trouble.”

 

“No trouble,” she insisted, leaning forward on her hands and looking him over. “No trouble at all. I just have a few questions.”

 

“Questions about what…?” Micah asked slowly. Tahl could hear the wariness in his tone. She’d be hurt if she didn’t know he had good reason. Sometimes she couldn’t help but tease.

 

“I want to know what’s changed," she said simply, still leaning in casually. She didn’t want to let on just how much she’d noticed. Or worse, have him thinking that there was anything wrong. Really there wasn’t anything she had been noticing that seemed like a bad thing.

 

“Changed? Nothing’s changed!” Micah yelped, starting to blush. She always thought it was cute when he blushed, but that wasn’t important right now. This meant she definitely wasn’t imagining things.

 

“Well for the last several months, you and Qui-Gon have barely been able to talk to me. You can’t think I hadn’t noticed. Force, last time Qui-Gon and I were both at the Temple without you, he couldn’t say two words to me without stammering.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “So something has changed, somewhere.”

 

Micah shifted and fidgeted in his seat, clearly considering how to answer.

 

“Alright things changed… but it’s just that we realized that we were acting like idiots,” Micah said and looked back at her, his ears are still bright red. “We just found a new way to channel that energy. Nothing's wrong, I promise," he said, looking up at her through his lashes. Tahl nearly blushes herself, it was a good look. But still that wasn’t really an answer. It felt more like he was dodging. She crossed her arms again, frowning.

 

“A new way to channel your energies?” She asked him, incredulous. Micah seems to balk at that and looked her over, blushing deeper.

 

“Yeah well we weren’t being fair to you…You deserve… better. It’s better isn’t it?” he asked haltingly. Tahl hated that she’d made him uncomfortable about it and she sighed. And really… things _were_ better. If they’d found a way to let off the excess steam she really didn’t have any reason complain. Maybe they were just sparring properly. Or going out on the town and venting. She wondered if she might come along sometime.

 

Tahl smiled at him and Micah visibly relaxed. She came around to him and give him a one-armed hug.

 

“It is better.” She agreed and bumped his shoulder playfully. “It’s good to have my best friends back.”


	4. The Realization (Micah)

**Length:**

13 minutes, 30 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 19 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%204%20NT.mp3)

Cocking his head thoughtfully, Micah moved the meditation mat in the corner on his brand new Knight’s quarters precisely two inches to the left. The effect on the room really didn’t changed, but there was something satisfying in arranging his few possessions in a space that was entirely his. That was the purpose of this night, after all; getting properly settled into his quarters before the Council had a chance to send him out into the Force-forsaken backwaters of the Outer Rim or Wild Space or wherever else new Knights were getting sent these days.

 

He did wonder what the Temple Quartermaster expected him to do with all this _space_ though. Two whole rooms, a private fresher, _and_ an extra sleeping chamber, supposedly for when Micah took a Padawan himself!

 

 _Not that THAT is happening anytime soon_ . Micah’s mouth twisted at the thought. No, he would not be making the mistake of certain Masters of the Order, and dragging some poor youngling out of the creche a scant week after his own braid was cut. They had all had the chance to see where that kind of thing led, and while Micah didn’t _think_ he would handle things as badly as Master Dooku had, he wasn’t willing to risk some poor youngling being put in the same position as Qui-Gon. Stuck with a Master who couldn’t understand him, and couldn’t be bothered to consider any views but his own, even when-

 

The chiming of the door startled Micah out of his thoughts. He frowned. No one was supposed to be coming over tonight; that was the whole point! One night to get settled in, then one last party tomorrow before Micah received his first assignment and went off to spend who knows how many months or years away from all his friends. It would be soon, too; he knew that. Tahl was already gone, sent out to some archeological dig of Jedi artifacts on one of the more politically unstable Mid-Rim worlds with her Master. It was supposed to be her last challenge before her Trials. Qui-Gon, of course, was still here, but Micah had no doubt that the Council would force Dooku to allow Qui-Gon’s Trials any day now. It was completely ridiculous that Qui-Gon, who had been a Padawan longer than any of them, still had his braid. The only reason Tahl hadn't been knighted was because she had come into the creche so late. Dooku was the only one who hadn’t seemed to have figured out that his Padawan was ready for Knighthood years ago.

 

Micah sent a thin thread of awareness through the door, and smiled when he encountered the shields of a familiar Force presence.

 

“What, you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” Micah said, palming the lock mechanism and sending the door swishing open. “It’s not like the party is going to start without-”

 

He broke off when he saw Qui-Gon’s face. He was bone white, and utterly expressionless. And he was holding his Padawan braid in his hand.

 

“Holy stars, Qui,” Micah breathed. “You did it. I didn’t even know that your trials were scheduled yet! When did they-”

 

Micah broke off again, because Qui-Gon was still staring at him with that neutral, unreadable face. The Trials were enough to shake anyone, as Micah well knew, but this...this was different. There was no trace of pride or accomplishment in Qui’s eyes. Just that unsettling blankness. Micah tried to brush the surface of Qui-Gon’s mind through their pairbond (the pairbond they really had no business forming before they were both officially Knights. Not that it stopped them from bonding to each other and to Tahl as soon as they knew how), but ran up against shields that were locked down tight.

 

“May I come in?” Qui-Gon asked at last, his voice as empty and unreadable as his face.

 

Micah grabbed Qui-Gon by the elbow and led him inside. He didn’t even bother stopping in the main room, instead leading them both to his sleeping quarters and sitting Qui down in his bed. Qui-Gon didn’t protest the manhandling, which only worried Micah more. Instead he just curled in on himself in Micah’s bed, as though unconsciously trying to make himself smaller.

 

“Alright,” Micah said, his tone brooking no argument. “Tell me what happened.”

 

Qui swallowed. He didn’t make eye contact, staring instead at the severed braid in his hands.

 

“Master Dooku and I had a...discussion last night. About my plans for the future. It, ah, didn’t go well.”

 

 _No shit_ , Micah thought. Out loud, he said, “And what? You just walked out and declared to the Council that your Trials were happening now?”

 

Micah was hoping the absurdity of the image might at least make Qui smile. It didn’t work.

 

“No,” Qui-Gon said, his voice still uncharacteristically flat. “Master Dooku brought me before the Council this morning. He said that, if I am so ready to throw my life away and become another dog of the Republic, then he saw no reason to continue as my Master, so I might as well face my Trials right away and be done with it.”

 

“And the Council just _allowed_ it? Just like that? No preparation, no ceremony, just into the Chamber?” Micah tried not to shout the question, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t very successful. Again, Qui-Gon seemed not to notice.

 

“Master Yoda said I was overdue for it.”

 

 _Overdue for having your trials scheduled, maybe! Not overdue for being thrown into the chamber without even a warning! For the love of the Force, what were they thinking?_ Micah seethed. He didn’t interrupt, though, as Qui-Gon continued on in a near-monotone.

 

“And...after…” Qui-Gon swallowed again. “He wasn’t even there, Mic. I walked out of the Chamber, and they told me he had already left. Master Yoda had to cut my braid for me. He severed the training bond before my Trials ended, and he left. I didn’t know where else to come after that, so...I came here.”

 

Qui-Gon looked up a little after that. Not enough to meet Micah’s gaze, but enough for Micah to see his expression. That terrible blankness had somehow deepened in his eyes, until it became a pit, hungry and aching to be filled with something, anything. Micah wanted to tear it away, to force Qui-Gon to show some of the pain that Micah knew was lurking under there, instead of keeping it walled away behind this brittle mask of nothing. But Micah had no idea how to do that, not without harming Qui-Gon further. _Force, Tahl, why do you have to be off planet when I need you most?_

 

For a moment, Micah even considered slapping his friend, just to get a reaction out of him, any reaction at all. But, no. Micah wouldn’t hurt him. Qui-Gon had been hurt enough for one day.

 

So instead, Micah wrapped his arms around his friend, pulling him close to his chest. He waited a moment, watching Qui-Gon’s face and Force presence for any sign that touch was unwelcome. Then, slowly, telegraphing his movements every step of the way, Micah drew him in, and planted a firm, lingering kiss on his lips.

 

Finally, Qui-Gon's reacted. It was only a small thing, a slightly relaxation of the tension in Qui-Gon’s body as he leaned into the kiss, but it was certainly better than nothing.

 

Micah broke off the kiss, and leaned his forehead against Qui-Gon’s. “You deserved better than that,” Micah murmured, sending out waves of sincerity and reassurance along their pairbond as Qui-Gon’s shields slowly began to crack. “You are going to be a kriffing _amazing_ as Knight, and if Dooku can’t see that, then that’s his loss, not yours.”

 

“I just,” Qui-Gon’s voice was becoming rougher with each word, as he slumped further and further into Micah’s embrace. “I just hoped he might actually be proud of me at the end, you know? Stupid of me. We haven’t seen eye to eye for years. I don’t know why I thought that would change just because-”

 

“It’s _not_ stupid,” Micah insisted, kissing Qui-Gon again for good measure. “You’ve been with him since you were ten karking years old! Of course you wanted him to be proud. I’d have bawled like a brand new Initiate if my Master hadn’t bothered to come to my Knighting.”

 

Qui-Gon laughed a little. It wasn’t exactly a happy sound, but it was still better than the earlier silence. “As if you didn’t bawl like a baby after your own Knighting anyway.” The attempt at the joke was weak, but it still sounded like music to Micah’s ears.

 

“Nothing but sass,” Micah said, falling dramatically backwards to lay on the bed, and dragging Qui-Gon down with him. “I can see that I will get no respect as the senior Knight here, now that you have  rank of your own.”

 

Then he rolled them both over, changing his grip a little so that he could look Qui-Gon more easily in the eye. “But seriously, Qui. You know I’m proud of you, right? You’re one of my best friends in the world, and I can’t wait to see the kind of Knight you’re going to be.”

 

“I...yeah, Mic. I know.” Micah could still hear the pain under that voice, and he wanted to punch Dooku in his stupid smug face for it. But he could also hear a note of warmth under it, that sounded a lot more like the Qui-Gon he knew than the terrible expressionless creature of a few minutes ago.

 

“Now, Knight Jinn,” Micah said, rolling over on top of Qui-Gon and flexing his body in a way that made Qui-Gon’s eyes widen. “Since this is the celebration of your Knighting, and you have nowhere else to be tonight, I think it’s time we actually did some celebrating, don’t you?”

 

Qui-Gon reached up and tangled a hand in Micah’s hair, while his other hand snuck under the hem of Micah’s tunic. “I suppose I could be convinced,” he said, as he drew Micah back down.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until later, with Qui-Gon asleep on his chest, that Micah realized he hadn’t mentioned Tahl once the whole time Qui had been in his arms. The realization hit him like a rain of icy water. He had held Qui-Gon, and kissed him, and touched him, and not a single moment of it had been about Tahl. It had all been about Qui-Gon, about trying to repair the holes his Master had left in him.

 

That wasn’t supposed to be their deal! They were friends, but the physical stuff, that was supposed to be about keeping their feeling for Tahl in check. Their hearts weren’t supposed to be involved. But as Micah watched Qui-Gon burrow further into his shoulder and wrap his arms more tightly around Micah’s waist, Micah had a terrible feeling that it was far, far too late for that.


	5. The Moment (Tahl)

**Length:**

8 minutes, 04 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 11 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%205%20NT.mp3)

Tahl had had too long to think about _it_ while she and her Master had been on their dig. Now that they had returned to the Temple she couldn’t believe she’d been so blind to it. She’d just been so happy to have them back. For a while things had been the same as they had been before the hormones had taken them over. But now… Now Micah was a Knight, and Qui-Gon had apparently followed in her absence. (And oh, hadn't that been a com call. Micah had been pale with rage, rage that Tahl shared. How dare Dooku, how  _dare_ he?! Qui-Gon deserved so much better than him, and Tahl desperately wished she had been there for Qui-Gon.)

 

And now, Tahl was the last one standing behind. Things had changed. Micah and Qui-Gon had grown closer… and whenever they shared a look… an almost kiss in her presence, Tahl just felt further away from them. They were so close now. So intimate. Somehow, Tahl had missed out on that intimacy. She heard that Qui-Gon had even gone through his trials while she’s been away on a mission with her Master. She’d at least had a holo conversation to congratulate Micah. They were all supposed to celebrate together after she returned… Qui-Gon’s Knighting would be celebrated now too she supposed. If only that were a happier occasion... after the stunt Dooku had pulled, they could all use a little celebration.

 

Come to think of it she’d noticed it there too, when they’d been speaking to her on the holo. Their closeness.

 

Sure, it wouldn’t be long before she was a Knight herself, this dig had pushed back her Master’s plans to submit her to the Council for her Trials, but seeing the two of them grow ever closer made her feel so distant. Mostly she just wished they’d actually _tell_ her that they were in this relationship. There was really no denying it now. The way they touched and talked. This wasn’t just late-night sparring sessions and perhaps a few cuddles as she’d first suspected. This was deeper, closer to love. She didn’t know why she ached when she thought about it. What could be better than her to dearest friends finding each other? She adored them and they clearly _fit_ together beautifully.

 

Deep down… she supposed she just felt left out.

 

It had always been the three of them against the world. And now that they weren’t being silly or vying for her affections and attentions, Tahl really wished she could be with them. She wanted to be in with that intimacy, not on the outside. But how could she possibly ask for that? For so long she’d just been begging them to be normal; to find an outlet for their sexual tensions that wasn’t staring at her all starry-eyed.

 

Every time she interrupted them or caught them in an intimate moment, it just felt like she was intruding. Tahl was really starting to hate that feeling. She wanted more… she wanted to be with them. She just- she wanted to be with the both of them, Tahl finally admitted to herself.

 

Tahl had to sit down at that realization. She wanted to be with the both of them; loved them both. She always had. She bit her lip, she had to speak with them. At this moment, not thinking about the order or any rules they all could be breaking. After a moment Tahl made up her mind and stood again, consulting the Force. Qui-Gon likely hadn’t been assigned quarters yet, with his Knighthood just passing. She had to see them. Micah had wanted sometime alone in his new quarters but he also wouldn’t have left Qui-Gon alone after his own turbulent Knighting. Tahl reached out to their quiet pairbonds, silent at the moment due to casual shielding, but always present. She let it carry her toward Micah's quarters; just as she had thought.

 

She didn't know what she was going to ask them exactly, but she knew avoiding this wasn’t the answer. Neither of them knew she had come home today, Tahl had no idea if she’d be welcome; but if they turned her away at least she’d finally have an answer. The Force nudged at her mind that this was the course to take.

 

Tahl took a breath and came to the door. There wasn’t an answer right away, but the thought of just leaving flooded her system with anxiety. Shifting she turned to the door panel, slicing her way into the system to get it open, stepping inside when it finally opened.

 

“Micah? Are you in here?” she called, wandering through the rooms. She came across the door to Micah’s new room, wide open.

 

They were impossible to miss. Micah and Qui-Gon were sprawled in Micah's bed, tangled together in a knot of bare skin and comfortable ease. Clothing was scattered on the floor around the bed, and Micah's hands were carding Qui-Gon's hair, the movements slow and lazy.

 

Tahl sucked in a startled breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene. The ache in her chest swelled, and she suddenly, desperately wished she could cross the room and join them. But at the sound, the peace shattered. Two pairs of eyes snapped to hers. For a moment, no one moved. Then, in a flurry of action, Micah and Qui-Gon were both scrambling apart and upright.

 

“Tahl… We can explain-!” Qui-Gon started, sitting up and raking his fingers through his hair in a haphazard attempt to tame it. Tahl blinked, caught off guard at how odd they both looked without their braids, but still so very good together.

 

“No I… No need. I just… I’m sorry.” Tahl managed, finally able to tear her eyes away, and then, heart in her throat, she turned and fled the room. She needed air. She needed to breathe. She wasn’t surprised by what she’d seen, it was exactly what she’d suspected… but they’d just been so close… It had looked so easy between them. She hadn't been ready to have her suspicions confirmed so... viscerally. They were _perfect_ together and she hadn't been any part of it. She couldn’t get the image out of her head. Honestly, Tahl wasn't sure she'd ever be able to think of anything else.


	6. The Calm (Qui-Gon)

**Length:**

7 minutes, 16 seconds

**Streaming:**

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[Here (MP3, 10 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%206%20NT.mp3)

Just like that, the tentatively comfortable equilibrium the three of them had achieved was shattered. When Tahl had turned and fled, Micah and Qui-Gon had scrambled further apart, the mood gone. Immediately, Micah had set to looking for his clothes, but Qui-Gon just sat there, feeling untethered and adrift. There had been something about Tahl’s expression, in that split second before she had turned and run; shock, confusion, comprehension, a moment of hurt that pierced Qui-Gon to his core, and…something like desire.

 

“Why are you just sitting there?!” Micah’s voice was sharp and snapped Qui-Gon out of his daze. Looking up, he saw that Micah was standing by the door, more or less fully dressed and hopping on one foot as he tried to pull on a boot. He looked frantic. “We have to go after her!”

 

Qui-Gon blew out a breath that shook more than he liked to admit and rose to his feet. Crossing the room, he laid a hand on Micah’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Micah, calm down.”

 

Micah gaped at him. “Calm down?! What do you mean, calm down?! Tahl’s―”

 

“Tahl’s not going to appreciate us making a scene by tearing after her through the halls of the Temple,” Qui-Gon said softly. He tugged gently at Micah’s shoulder, guiding him back towards the bed, pulling him down to sit.

 

Micah squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling loudly through his nose. When he opened his eyes again, he was calmer, but his eyes were still frantic. The ache in Qui-Gon’s chest grew at the distress still clearly painted across his friend’s face.

 

“What if we’ve ruined everything?” Micah said softly. “What if she―”

 

“She won’t,” Qui-Gon said, shaking his head.

 

“You can’t know that.”

 

 “Of course I can. She’s Tahl.”

 

“We have to talk to her.”

 

 Qui-Gon nodded. “We will. But it’s late, let’s wait until the morning. Give her a chance to breathe, and us a chance to figure out what to say.”

 

Micah nodded in silent agreement, but he still looked so despondent that Qui-Gon could not resist the urge any longer. He pulled Micah close, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend, and tucked his head under his chin. He pressed a kiss against short, dark hair, and tried to sound surer than he felt. “We’ll figure it out.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

But of course, things were never that easy. Qui-Gon was woken at far too early an hour by the sound of a comm going off and Micah’s muffled cursing. Raising his head, Qui-Gon blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. Micah was already up and sitting on the edge of his bed, holding the comm out in front of him. Blue light flickered from it, casting shadows around the bedroom and making Qui-Gon squint in displeasure as he recognized the voice of Master Sifo-Dyas. A Council call then. Damn.

 

“―need you to leave immediately. A transport will be waiting for you at docking bay seven.”

 

Micah’s shoulders slumped, just a little. “Of course, Master Dyas. I will be there.”

 

The projection of Sifo-Dyas nodded. “May the Force be with you, Knight Giett.” Micah nodded, and then the projection vanished.

 

Qui-Gon groaned, dropping his face back down onto the pillow. He heard Micah get up and start moving around the room, re-dressing and gathering things. Silence stretched for a time, until something small and hard smacked into the back of Qui-Gon’s head.

 

Yelping in startled pain, Qui-Gon sat up and scowled. “Micah!”

 

“You’ve got a message,” Micah shot back, his back to Qui-Gon as he pulled on a fresh tunic. Even from across the room, Qui-Gon could see the tension in Micah’s back and shoulders. Qui-Gon understood; if Micah had to leave, they would not be able to talk to Tahl today. Checking his comm, Qui-Gon resisted the urge to groan again. A message from Yoda. He was being sent out as well.

 

Damn, damn, _damn_.

 

Rising, Qui-Gon crossed to Micah and tapped his shoulder. When Micah turned, Qui-Gon pulled him into a hug. Micah did not resist, leaning heavily against Qui-Gon’s taller frame.

 

“We’ll work it out,” Qui-Gon promised. “We always do.”

 

“I don’t like leaving things like this,” Micah mumbled.

 

Qui-Gon nodded. “I know. I don’t either. But we’re Jedi. The Code comes first.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

 

Micah was still and silent for a moment. Then Qui-Gon heard him sigh, and he straightened and stepped away. “You’re right.” His voice was flat, but in the Force he felt calm, if resigned. “We can talk to her when we get back.”

 

Hesitating for a moment, Qui-Gon reached out, pulling Micah back in, just enough that he could lean down and kiss him. It was light and chaste, and despite the current mood it made Qui-Gon’s heart stutter and his stomach twist. When he pulled back, Micah was blinking at him, the expression that had been too close to defeat for Qui-Gon’s comfort replaced by confusion. Qui-Gon knew he probably shouldn’t have done it. They had rules, and even if he had spent less and less time worry about those rules as the years passed, they were still there for a reason. But still… Qui-Gon smiled, resting his forehead gently against Micah’s.

 

“May the Force be with you.”

 

He could feel Micah’s warm breath against his lips. Calloused fingers brushed his cheek for a moment before vanishing. “Come back safe.”  

 

Qui-Gon smiled. “Only if you do.”


	7. The Resolution

**Length:**

12 minutes, 34 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 10 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%207%20NT.mp3)

 

Only Micah, Qui-Gon thought, as he strode through the main entrance hall of the Jedi Temple, only Micah would take “Only if you do” as a kriffing challenge!

 

Tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe and endeavoring to look like he not nearly vibrating with concern, Qui-Gon turned a corner sharply and only just avoided a collision with a group of giggling Padawans. The three younglings caught sight of his expression as they made to apologize, and fled. Qui-Gon could not find it in himself to feel too ashamed.

 

His mission had taken longer to complete than he had expected; he had been gone from the Temple for almost a month. In that time, he had been mostly out of contact with his friends, which was, after all, only to be expected. He had done his best to throw himself into the mission, to not stew on the look on Tahl’s face, the worry and fear in Micah’s, or the ache that swelled in his own chest at the thought of losing them, either of them, because of this. And he had almost been successful. Living in the moment, Qui-Gon had always been good at that.

 

What he had not expected, however, was the message waiting for him when he finally returned to his ship. A message, text only, from Tahl.

 

Micah had been hurt.

 

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth against the fresh swell of worry and turned the final quarter to the medbay. He could feel Tahl’s worry now, pulsing in waves over the pair bond they had shared since they were children. His bond with Micah felt staticy, like when Qui-Gon had still been growing into his newly lengthened limbs and kept bashing his elbows, sending his arms into spasms of pins and needles.

 

Waving off the healer Padawan who tried to intercept him, Qui-Gon strode through the Healers’ wards, following the bond to where Tahl and Micah were, striding into the room without hesitation. The first thing he saw was Micah. His friend looked pale, lying still and silent in the biobed. It was Wrong, like a vicious and foul flavour clinging to the back of Qui-Gon’s tongue. Micah, always so full of life, so never look so still. Tahl sat in the tiny chair beside the bed, her head down and her hair falling out of its bun. Qui-Gon hesitated, just for a step, when he saw that her Padawan braid had been severed. There was a curl of slightly charred hair behind her ear. The slump of her shoulders spoke of exhaustion and worry. She was holding Micah’s hand.

 

Qui-Gon’s chest ached. Irrationally, he wished that the Force did make them as powerful as some of the people in the Outer Rim said, that he could wave his hand and fix everything. He moved fully into the room, going to stand with her, at Micah’s side. Where he belonged. Where he had always belonged.

* * *

 

Tahl looked over Micah as he rested. She had run to his beside the very moment he had been returned to the Temple. Even before that she had known something was wrong when there was abruptly fuzzy static on the end of the old pairbond. Active shielding of the bond felt very different than when one of them was unconscious. She bit her lip, still so worried about him.

 

Tahl’s own knighting had passed by quietly. Her Master had offered to take her out for a drink while her friends were off world but she’d politely declined. She hated how she’d left things She couldn’t say why she’d fled that day. It wasn’t as though what she’d seen had shocked her. It was exactly what she’d expected really. She just hadn’t realized just how far outside of their orbit she had fallen.

 

How much she had missed.

 

She was startled out of her thoughts by Qui-Gon suddenly being right beside her. She stood and pulled him immediately into an embrace.

 

“They say he’s stable but he hasn't woken up,” she whispered to him, and felt his arms come around her and hold her close. She relaxed against him.

 

“He’ll come out of it,” he told her, reassuring her. He touched her hair and she relaxed into it. “Hi,” he said gently and smiled. She smiled back.

 

“Hello,” she returned. “ Knight Jinn.” She used his new title and he actually winced a little, pulling back and letting her go.

 

“Yes… that was… unexpected.” he said, and sighed. “Dooku, he…” Qui-Gon swallowed and looked down at his hands. Tahl reached out and took his hand in hers.

 

“I heard… Asked around… before I went to my own trials. I’m so sorry Dooku treated you that way.” She whispered squeezing his hand. She’d always disliked that man. Now she was finding it a bit difficult not to hate him altogether. She was just glad that Micah had been there for Qui-Gon… even if she hadn’t been. “And I um… I’m sorry I ran… after seeing the two of you together. I just… Needed time.”

 

“We weren’t really trying to keep it from you.. if that’s what upset you. Really, it’s just that somewhere along the way, talking about these things became awkward. That’s not an excuse just…” Qui-Gon sighed and bit his lip. He looked back over at Micah and there was such love on his face, his eyes so soft beneath all the concern, that it made Tahl's chest ache uncomfortably.

 

“That’s not why I was upset,” she said and breathed out. “I guess… I’m just a bit jealous… It’s always been the three of us but now with the two of you together, I feel like I’m on the outside.” She sunk a little, sitting back in her chair at Micah’s bedside. “Which is a terrible thing to feel… I should just be happy for you. You two are perfect together.”

 

She finally dared to glance back up and found Qui-Gon staring at her. Much to her surprise he actually laughed. Tahl's confusion must have shown on her face though, because Qui-Gon caught her eye and then hurried to sit down beside her.

 

“Tahl, you-” He started, and then shook his head. “Listen… Micah and I are in a relationship of sorts but… You have always been a part of it.” Qui-Gon sighed, a blush starting to rise in his cheeks as he ran a hand over his face. “From the very beginning.”

 

Tahl frowned at him looking him over. “I don’t understand.” She tilted her head at him. “You two are clearly together and quite intimate.” The feelings between them were clear as day. Especially now that she wasn’t being willfully blind.

 

“We are… and I love Micah dearly.” He said then smiled over at his resting friend. “But at the beginning that love was out of friendship… This started because of our mutual feelings for, and ridiculous crushes on, you, Tahl.” At her startled look, he continued, “You see… we realized it couldn’t go on the way it had. We both could barely look at you without tripping all over ourselves. So at first… it was an outlet. We loved each other and, well, who better to vent with?” Qui-Gon shrugged a little.

 

 Tahl was still frowning in confusion. “But it’s more than that, though. I can see it.”

 

 “Of course it is... now. I love Micah. It just took me a while to realize I wanted to be intimate with him just because he’s Micah, and not just to let off steam about both of us loving you. But… We still do love you Tahl.” He turned toward her again. “We’ve always loved you.”

 

 Tahl blinked, then blinked again. He just sounded so certain… but how could he be? Micah wasn’t even conscious and with them. “I-” She started and frowned.

 

 “I’m so sorry if we made you feel like you were on the outside… we-” Qui-Gon was cut off by a low groan and they both turned to see Micah stirring.

 

* * *

 

“Micah.” Micah heard them say and blinked the blur out of his eyes, looking over at the two of them. They were beautiful. Sitting there together, touching. It was almost like he was still dreaming. Which was silly, he'd been awake for more of their conversation. He smiled at them and they both looked back at him, clearly worried. He just groaned and waved off their concern, reaching up and putting his hand over both of theirs, taking a moment to orient himself properly. They remained quiet and patient, for which Micah was grateful. Awake or no, he was still fighting through a haze of drugs.

 

“Well don’t let me interrupt.” he said, his voice a little rough. “Things were finally coming into the light.” Micah smiled a little at them again.

 

Qui-Gon smiled back and laughed a little. “You’ve been listening.”

 

“Of course… And it’s true Tahl... We’ve always been mad for you… we never meant to exclude you in anything. Though...” He looked up at Qui-Gon, "Lately things have been changing between us. It's not just about Tahl anymore." he bit his lip and Qui-Gon reached out with his free hand, squeezing Micah's arm.

 

"For me too." Qui-Gon told him. "I'm okay with breaking our rules if you are." Qui-Gon said gently. "Honestly, I've been ignoring the rules for a while." He admits

 

Micah laughed at that. "Typical." He said. Micah moved his hand up, touching Tahl’s soft brown skin. It looked like it was glowing and golden from the haze of the medications they had given him. “Maybe we all could be something different?” He offered.

 

"Together?” Tahl asked, licking her lips. She clearly liked the idea.

 

“Together.” Qui-Gon agreed. “All three of us.” He smiled at the both of them.

 

“It sounds like a Beginning.” Tahl said and leaned in, embracing Micah and dragging Qui-Gon with her.

 


	8. Epilogue

**Length:**

5 minutes, 20 seconds

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 7.3 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Resolution/Resolution%20Chapter%208%20NT.mp3)

An alarm was going off. Tahl groaned, rolling over and burying her face in a pillow. "Quiiii turn it off."

 

When no relief came, she groaned again, louder, and pushed herself up on her elbows. The sight that met her eyes made her snort and clap her hands over her mouth to smother the laughter.

 

Qui-Gon was on his back, limbs flung out every which way. His hair, still dark but beginning to silver around his temples and at the roots, fanned out around his face like something out of a holo-novel, and he was snoring softly.

 

On his other side, Micah was looking at them with soft, unfocused eyes, even as he was nearly falling off the bed, taking his pillow and most of the blankets with him. He was clearly half-asleep in nostalgia.

 

Biting her lip against a grin, Tahl reached out in the Force, first silencing the still screeching alarm, and then rearranging Qui-Gon and rescuing Micah from his inevitable plummet into the abyss. He only smiled at her in response, settling back down. Only then did she flop back down and close her eyes. The things she did for her boys.

* * *

 

Alas, the soft peace of the morning did not last long. One minute, Qui-Gon was happily asleep, and the next he was jerking upright as the silence of the bedroom was shattered by too many too loud voice at far too early and hour.

 

"What- who's on fire?!"

 

"Wake up, old man!"

 

Qui-Gon groaned, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as the dark head of a recently Knighted Xanatos du Crion came into view. Qui-Gon scowled at his former student.

 

"I'm pretty sure I got rid of you a year ago. You have your own rooms now, Xan."

 

The young man scoffed and waved a hand. "Yeah yeah so you've said. But come on! All three of you, it's time to get up! Or have you forgotten what today is?"

 

"To louddddd," moaned a voice near Qui-Gon's hip. Glancing down, he saw that Micah was fully encased in the bedding. On Qui-Gon's other side, Tahl was sitting up, and laughing.

 

Xanatos rolled his eyes, sighing with all the dramatics of a long suffering Padawan. "Say it isn't so! You really did forget, didn't you? Oh, Force, Garen is going to be heart-"

 

"KRIFF!"

 

There was a thud, and Qui-Gon heard Tahl sigh. "Oh dear..."

* * *

 

On the floor, Micah cursed, struggling to extricate himself from the blankets that trapped him. When he finally fought his way free, he jumped to his feet. "I didn't forget! Birthday breakfast, I remember!"

 

"Oh Force, please no!" Xanatos turned away, covering his eyes. "Please, please, spare me, no naked Masters in the morning!"

 

Confused, Micah glanced down at himself. Oh. Right. He grinned at the rather large, rather dark, rather mouth shaped bruise on his thigh. That had been fun. Up on the bed, Tahl was wheezing with laughter, and even Qui-Gon was chuckling as the second eldest of their massive collection of Padawans fled the room.

 

"Tell the others we'll be out in a moment!" Qui-Gon called after his retreating form.

 

"Take your time!" Was the muffled response.

 

Laughter, Micah climbed back onto the bed. "Do you think we scarred him?"

 

"Oh, he'll get over it," Qui-Gon said, grinning as he reached for Micah. "He's seen worse."

 

"Hmm, you'd think, after all these years, that boy would have learned to knock," Tahl said, though her voice was slightly muffled as she pressed her face against the crook of Qui-Gon's shoulder.

 

Micah grinned, and then turned his attention to receiving quite a lovely good morning kiss. Reminiscing could wait for later. They had a flock for Padawans to deal with now.

* * *

 

 Outside, the sounds of Feemor, Xanatos, Bant, Garen, and Obi-Wan clattering around the kitchen, chattering and laughing, could be heard. Inside the bedroom, three parts of a whole reveled in each other's presences for a few moments longer, before they got up and continued the life they had all built, together.


End file.
